Collisions
by penandpaper67
Summary: The story has no beginning and no end. A collection of drabbles centering on various characters and situations. Because of course the story can't have just one main character. It's about a bunch of destinies colliding.
1. Pain: Firo's POV

**A/N: So I was really sad when I saw that there were very few Baccano! fanfics. I just got really into this series (it's awesome, if you haven't seen it, do so!) and I'm absolutely in love with it! So now I'm doing some drabbles whenever inspiration hits me, or at least until I get to fifty. I'm a big fan of Firo/Ennis, Jacuzzi/Nice (and just Jacuzzi in general, he's awesome), and Claire. Claire is just.... wow. I don't know how much I'll write about him though (or at least from his POV) since he's flat out CRAZY and would be really hard to write, but isn't that what makes a good character? Anyways, I don't know how often I'll get to update and these'll probably all be around this length, maybe a little longer.**

**This first one is just something that popped into my head. I think I was listening to a review on the series and someone said something like "Yeah... I don't think they can feel pain." I was like, "What? Are you kidding me? Do you think Czes didn't feel anything when his face was ground to bits against the railroad tracks?" Hence this slightly depressing drabble... It's more a rant than anything I guess, written in depressing form. I promise they won't all be this sad, I'll try to alternate comedy and drama. This particular one is in Firo's POV.**

_Pain: Firo's POV_

The hard metal bullet penetrated the soft flesh in my chest and ripped its way down, through muscles, tendons, heart, bone, and whatever else fell in its way. Pain. Pain clouded my eyes, in the form of red mist. I knew I was on the ground; I knew wet, sticky, hot blood was flooding the alleyway; I knew I was going to die. And I did. For a second at least. At least that's what I think it was. Of course I've never actually died fully. But I stopped breathing, my blood stopped flowing, my heart stopped pumping, my brain shut down. Doesn't that qualify as dying?

At that second when my body was completely dead, my mind seemed to still work fine. In fact, it was better than fine. I could see clearer than I had in days. And I saw a girl in a slim black suit telling me about immortals. And then I was back. How could this be? The elixir? I was so confused but I hid my pain, my struggle, my confusion, and took the lead.

The pain eased minutes later when memories thundered through my restored brain and the confusion dissolved. Szilard's experiences were all mine now. And yet they weren't. I couldn't feel anything he could feel. I couldn't feel his pain.

Immortals are strange creatures. And I don't just say that because we live forever and are cannibals (in the most basic sense, at least). We feel pain. People don't expect it, but we do. A punch in the gut is a punch in the gut; everyone hurts the same afterward. Even though we heal, the agony of a thousand wounds reverberates inside our insignificant bodies. A few bullets to the chest are death to a normal human; at least their pain ends afterwards. Ours stretches on for eternity, or at least until we're eaten by another of our kind.

I've been talking to Czes lately. It's a bit depressing actually. He's still a kid at heart since he never actually matured, but he's suffered more pain than the rest of us put together, physical and mental. He thinks that the people who say pain gets easier as you get older are idiots. He says pain just gets worse and worse, especially if you expect it or wait for it to come. I agree with him. After 70 years of living, I've had enough pain myself.

None of us are actually immortal. We can't die, but once we're eaten by someone else we just become a memory. I know, Szilard had eaten plenty of us by the time I ate him. No, the true immortal, the only thing that lives on, is pain.

**A/N: What do you think? Are my ramblings just crap or do you feel the same way? Let me know either way! Review please!**


	2. Jacuzzi the Unromantic

**A/N: Sorry I took so long to update! It shouldn't be as long before the next one. Usually I'm somewhat better, but I was taking a break from writing fanfiction to focus on school. I'm not particularly happy about this one. I started writing it and it kind of took on a life of its own and started writing itself. So it's kind of rambling... It's really two things I wanted to talk about in one, so yeah... I might rewrite it later, but here it is for now. I'm a big fan of Jacuzzi and Jacuzzi/Nice, so you'll definitely see more of him in the future. This one's from Nice's POV.**

_Jacuzzi the Unromantic_

Jacuzzi has always been a little slow on the uptake. I mean, he's the sweetest guy ever, and I love him more than anything else, but he must be romantically defective or something. I swear if he didn't have me as a girlfriend, anyone else would dump him in a week. Ten years. That's how long I waited for him to kiss me. I mean, I know you're easily intimidated, Jacuzzi, but it's me! It's your Nice! You've known me since, well, forever! You were the one who got a frickin' tattoo one your face (God knows how much that hurt) just to make me feel better. So why can't you kiss me, hold me, do something romantic?

Until he kissed me on the Flying Pussyfoot, I guess you couldn't really call us an item, but we were. Is that weird? That our relationship consisted of talking and hanging out and conspiring? We took joy in the little things. He would watch me fool around with explosives, tears beginning to well up in his extremely lucid eyes, worried for my health and sanity. I'd assure him that I had plenty of experience, wouldn't mess my face up again, that I'd learned my lesson, but of course that wouldn't convince him. I'd sit with him through his crying fits and deal with his plain insanity when his emotions overwhelmed him. He's a lot braver than most people think. Usually people call him a crybaby or a coward, but he's not. Not even close. He's the bravest person I know for reasons I can barely explain.

One time we were walking down the street and a thug came up to us, probably trying to make a buck looting our nonexistent wallets.

"What's this here?" he asked, in a deep rumbling accent. "A pansy-boy with a tough tattoo? That your girlfriend, there? She looks a little too, well, wild for you if you get my meaning."

Jacuzzi straightened up in that way he does and looked the man right in the face. "Damn right, she's my girlfriend." I just about jumped at his tone. He actually sounded, well, _intimidating_. He _was_ going through a confident spell, but still, this was extremely out of character for Jacuzzi. I thought he was actually going to spit in the guy's face or something like that, but his confidence kind of ran out when the thug started yelling and making a fist. Of course, then Donny showed up and we ran out as fast as we could, tears starting to stream down Jacuzzi's face, but a smile creeping through all the same.

Tears aren't a sign of cowardice. That's what I've learned from Jacuzzi. Now when it's my turn to teach him something, I'll teach him how to treat a girl right. Teach him how _not_ to let her wait ten years for her next kiss. Teach him to be romantic all the time, not just when tears are pouring down his face, mixing with the snot dripping slowly out of his nose. Yeah, not that his face is _ugly_ per say when he looks like that, but it's not exactly what you want to look at for the rest of your life.

When I was little, I would dream of the perfect boyfriend. Tall, slim, dark man who would kiss me every couple of minutes, tell me I was beautiful, save me from all danger, and whisper in my ear that everything would be okay when it clearly wouldn't. Jacuzzi is nothing like my dream. But I guess I prefer things this way… I wasn't really ever the type to be a damsel in distress, so being the balls in the relationship is fine with me. As long as it isn't literal.

**A/N: Like I said, it's more than I meant to put in one drabble. I also realized how hard it is to write Jacuzzi. I mean, I was writing from Nice's POV, but my attempt at writing Jacuzzi dialogue was crap (hence the single OOC line). Review, please!**


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